


Cordy in a Convent

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen, Nuns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-02
Updated: 2008-10-02
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Cordy's on a stake-out, but maybe not for the reason she thinks.





	Cordy in a Convent

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Cordelia, Mirror, Convent
> 
> Okay this is lame, but I had to get it 'out the door' as close to deadline as possible. (Er, being two days past.)
> 
> smooches to all - I'll try to do better next time.
> 
> So, the curtain goes up on Cordelia, circa Angel season two-ish...

Cordy pursed her lips and touched the edge of her upper lip with her thumbnail, carefully nudging back a slight bleed of ‘harvest plum’ lipstick.  
  
A startled face appeared behind her in the mirror, frowning. She turned quickly. “Oh, this isn’t worldly vanity. I’m just fixing my make-up.”  
  
The nun blinked, and, unable to produce an answer to that, hurried on her way.  
  
Cordelia sighed, returning to her reflection and pouting. The novice get-up was actually kind of cute – the white wimple really showed off her skin tone and drew attention to her eyes. Not that it was going to do her any good. She studied the reflection an little longer and sighed. “Okay, Mr. Lost Touch With Style in the 80s, I know you’re there.”  
  
There was a dark chuckle. “Oh yeah, Princess? How’s that?”  
  
She rolled her eyes and turned. “Because you’re not in the mirror. Duh.”   
  
Spike looked confused for a second, then shrugged and shook a cigarette out of his pack.  
  
“Anyway, what am I doing dressed like this if you were just going to walk in the door? I haven’t seen any big apocalyptic threat, by the way, unless you count the serious shortage of moisturizer, and some cuticles that I think have never been trimmed. Like, ever.”   
  
“About that.” He flipped open his lighter. A nun paused in the hallway to look at him and gasp. He raised his eyebrows at her menacingly and she scuttled off. He smiled smugly around his cigarette.  
  
Cordy folded her arms, draped in that thick black wool crepe – ugh – and glared at him. It was a glare normally reserved for rodents and dates who didn’t tip. The glare that would have even Angel scuffing the floor.  
  
But Spike seemed unaffected. He lit his cigarette and blew out a lazy cloud of smoke. “I lied. There is no apocalypse. No reason for you to sneak in here all habited up.”  
  
“I knew I shouldn’t have listened!” Cordy flapped her arms and groaned. “Oh sure, you had that whole ‘I don’t want the world to end’ crap with Buffy and then… oooh! This is the LAST time I listen to evil.”  
  
Angrily, she wrenched a stake out of her robe and stepped forward.  
  
Spike dropped his lighter, hands coming up. “Hey now, no staking the messenger!”  
  
“You aren’t the messenger. You’re the evil little jerk who set this all up!”  
  
“Well, yeah.” He grinned mischievously. “’S a surprise for Angel, init?”  
  
“Bait. Great. I’m bait. Again.”  
  
“Oh no,” Spike assured, lowering his lashes and giving a lascivious grin. “Not that you aren’t tempting.”  
  
Cordelia got the stake back up just in time to make him back off from an attempted hug. Spike backed up, hands up.  
  
“Wait,” Cordy said. She tapped her bottom lip with the stake.  
  
Spike started to look worried. That clinched it. She pointed at him. “Why aren’t you just threatening me? What’s with the big plot, all this convincing me to be here when the last time we met it was all ‘grr’.”  
  
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spike scratched his head and scanned for a distraction. “Ah, look – more nuns. Looking at us funny. You want to handle this, Princess.”  
  
“Something is up with you. Do vampires get PMS?”  
  
“Just Angel,” he said, automatically. “Look, the truth is, some lawyer bloke came to me and offered me a big pile of cash to draw Angelus to the dark side. I figured, what with you being his gal Friday and having gorgeous tits, a little nun habit is all it’ll take.”  
  
“Wow,” Cordy gasped sarcastically. “They just don’t make criminal masterminds like they used to.”  
  
“You just wait, Princess. Old Gelus gets one look at you in that outfit and his poufy virtue will fly out the window. For which you should really thank me, because the way that git is you’d be pining after him for a decade before he caught on.”  
  
Cordy threw her stake at him. It hit, ineffectually side-on, and clattered to the floor. “I’m not pining.”  
  
“Right.” Spike smirked, eyebrows waggling.  
  
Cordy turned on her heel and stormed toward the exit.  
  
“Fuuuck.” Spike pitched his cigarette and chased after her, wincing as he grabbed her arm.  
  
“Oh no. I am not going to be your little bait trap.”  
  
“He’s already on his way, gorgeous. Just...”  
  
Something grabbed Spike’s neck. He looked into the mirror in front of him, seeing only the back of Cordy’s head behind her triumphant face.  
  
“Congratulations, Spike,” Angel breathed on his ear. “Your plan worked.”


End file.
